


Just One Normal Christmas

by Triangulum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16689127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/pseuds/Triangulum
Summary: "One normal Christmas, that's all I wanted!" Stiles says, waving his hand in front of him. The elf (seriously, maniacal little elves on Christmas Eve?) that was rushing him with his sharp little teeth bared goes flying through the air, hitting a tree with a sickening crunch."I know, dear," Peter says. He's trailing behind Stiles, watching his path of destruction with poorly-concealed amusement.





	Just One Normal Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Is it too early for Christmas fic? Yes? No? Don't care, posting it anyway.

"One normal Christmas, that's all I wanted!" Stiles says, waving his hand in front of him. The elf (seriously, maniacal little elves on Christmas Eve?) that was rushing him with his sharp little teeth bared goes flying through the air, hitting a tree with a sickening crunch. 

"I know, dear," Peter says. He's trailing behind Stiles, watching his path of destruction with poorly-concealed amusement.

"I wanted eggnog!" And elf explodes with a swish of Stiles' hands. "I wanted goddamn snowman cookies while we watch the Peanuts Christmas special." Two elves are lifted off the ground and slammed into each other. "I wanted Christmas fucking Eve dinner with my goddamn boyfriend but noooo, elf invasion."

Stiles does a tricky little movement with his hands and the elf that had been trying to sneak up behind Peter is turned inside out.

"Vivid," Peter says, eyeing the mass of blood and organs.

The rest of the elves finally seem to realize they're way out of their depth with Stiles and turn tail, running deeper into the preserve.

"And then these dumbasses get themselves kidnapped and we have to rescue them. Again!"

Stiles shoots off a few spells after the retreating elves, impaling two of them with a magic blade projectile that Peter knows for a fact he modeled after Hela's when he saw Thor: Ragnarok.

"I know, love," Peter says, stepping up behind Stiles. He wraps his arms around Stiles' waist and presses a kiss behind his ear, gratified at the way he goes pliant against him despite the rage simmering just beneath the surface. "Look at it this way; this is seven more tallies for us."

On the refrigerator in Derek's loft is a chart. Stiles had started it over a year ago when Isaac had made a snide comment about how Stiles and Peter don't contribute anything to the pack. While Peter had verbally eviscerated him, Stiles had just shrugged a pulled out a notebook.

The chart is simple, just vertical columns, each with the name of a pack member on top. Whenever a pack member saves another packmate, they get a tally in their column. Derek has twelve, Allison ten, and the rest have a handful each. Peter has fifty-seven and Stiles fifty-nine. Petty, but they both enjoy Isaac's face whenever they add another tally. 

"We should get double tallies," Stiles grumbles. "Holiday pay."

Peter just laughs, kissing Stiles' cheek before pulling back. "Come on, let's save our miserable pack so we can get back to our mashed potatoes," Peter says. 

"Ugh, fine."

It's easy to follow the trail the elves left. They aren't exactly subtle or graceful creatures. The tracks lead to a small clearing where the pack is tied up, the werewolves with wolfsbane rope, Lydia with plain old handcuffs, and Allison bound tightly from chest to toe. Smart.

A low level demon, something Peter could have killed as a teenager, is listening to the frightened chatter of the elves. It's tall, with grey skin, curled horns, and yellow eyes. At least seven feet tall and wearing -

"A Santa costume? Really? Are you fucking kidding me?"

The demon and elves turn at the sound of Stiles' voice. The demon lifts a hand but before it can do anything, Stiles slashes at the air, hissing something under his breath. The demon screams, its putrid yellow blood spraying as its arm is severed completely. 

"A bit dramatic, darling," Peter says, punting a rather brave elf that charges them.

"Yeah, well, you know me," Stiles says. Another wave of his hand and the demon falls, now missing a leg, howling in pain.

"Stop playing with you food. We have braised lamb shanks waiting for us at home," Peter says.

"I get dragged all the way out here and I can't even have fun with it?" Stiles says. Peter just raises an eyebrow. "Fiiiine." 

Stiles raises his hands like a conductor before their orchestra, closes his fists and brings them down hard. Every elf in the clearing drops dead, leaving the hissing and writing demon alone.

"Go for it, it's your turn. I took the succubus last month," Stiles says. 

"So kind," Peter says, strolling forward, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. "This doesn't count as a Christmas gift, you know."

"We'll call it a solstice gift since I didn't get you anything," Stiles says.

"I'm pretty sure a mutilated demon wasn't on my wish list."

"Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers."

The demon weakly swipes at Peter when he gets close, but it's lost too much blood, Stiles' magic draining too much of its energy for it to be any real threat. A quick slice of the claws and it's dead, slumped over on the ground.

Stiles and Peter untie the others, and Peter definitely smirks at the demon blood spray covering Scott and Derek. Lydia and Allison are dressed to the nines, apparently heading to a Christmas party when they were snatched. Peter's glad to see the silk survived the night without any demon blood. It really is tricky to get out.

"Let's see, that's Derek, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Scott, Allison, and Lydia all accounted for," Stiles says. "That's seven tallies, thank you very much."

"Oh come on, Allison was almost out of her ropes!" Scott says.

"But she wasn't, and the demon Santa was literally about to eat you," Stiles says. "Seven tallies and since you all managed to get kidnapped and ruin my Christmas dinner, you're on body disposal," Stiles says. 

"Give us a break, we were just tied up and almost eaten!" Isaac says.

"Yeah, don't let yourselves be kidnapped by elves next time," Stiles says. "Seriously, dude, they're like a foot and a half tall and have bells on their shoes. Get your shit together."

Peter snorts at Isaac's sputtering outrage. "You lost a fight to Christmas elves. If I were you, I wouldn't be advertising that," Peter says.

Lydia takes Allison's arm, primly stepping over the scattered bodies until she's at Stiles' side. "Allison and I were on body duty last time and there isn't a chance in hell I'm doing that in this dress," Lydia says. "Can you drop us off?"

Stiles looks at Peter, who just shrugs, leaving it up to Stiles.

"Only because Allison's house is on the way and your fancy dresses are reigniting my holiday spirit," Stiles says. 

"See, it pays to dress," Lydia says, blowing a kiss to the rest of the pack before she and Allison follow Stiles and Peter. "You get extra points for style, by the way," she says, motioning to the dead bodies.

"I thought so," Stiles says. He reaches for Peter's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Peter enjoys it when I show off."

Peter shrugs, completely unrepentant. He likes that his future husband is powerful, and he isn't ashamed of that.

"I don't need to know about your weird foreplay," Allison says, scrunching up her nose. It really is impressive how well she and Lydia walk in their heels in the dark forest. 

"You may want to reconsider riding with us then," Peter says.

"Or at least put a towel down in the back seat before you sit down," Stiles says.

"Oh god."

"Ew, seriously?"

"It's our car and it's Christmas! And I just saved your lives! Be nice!" Stiles says. "Manners, honestly."

The braised lamb shanks are salvageable by the time Peter and Stiles get home, thank god. Peter would have sent the pack a bill if they hadn't been edible. After a quick wash up, Peter and Stiles are back on the couch with their dinner and a bottle of wine, A Charlie Brown Christmas on TV. They're wearing their flannel pajama pants that Stiles insisted are necessary for Christmas, the eight-foot Christmas tree in the corner glittering brightly with a combination of ornaments and Stiles' magic.

Bloodshed and Christmas, two of Stiles' favorite things.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [ tumblr ](http://www.hotpinklizard.tumblr.com).


End file.
